


Seasons May Change

by Bolt41319



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, inspiredbyoq2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt41319/pseuds/Bolt41319
Summary: A four part collection.Part One - WinterPart Two - SpringPart Three - SummerSet in the canon universe.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Comments: 19
Kudos: 35





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the ridiculously talented @willow1411 for her gorgeous manip of Robin and Regina in the snow. Your manips amaze me, and this picture is one of my absolute favorites. 
> 
> Art this is inspired by - https://twitter.com/willow1411/status/1312712415835025409?s=20

Winter

February 1st

The hardwood is cold beneath her toes, the thick fleece blanket wrapped snugly around her shoulders as she stares out the window, feeling the frosted chill through the glass. 

There’s low rumble from behind her and Regina turns, watches as Robin rolls over in bed, the covers slipping down his bare chest. He reaches his hand out, fingers absentmindedly curl into the sheets at the empty space she just left, and she smiles as his brow furrows even in sleep at her absence. 

A harsh wind whips outside the window and she watches as the trees bustle, listens to the howl of the cold February air, and then the snow begins to fall. 

“I do believe it’s customary to sleep in on your birthday,” she hears from the bed, a soft smile growing on her lips, “not be up at four in the bloody morning.” 

“The snow woke me up,” she whispers, padding silently back to the bed. She climbs up and sits with her legs tangled beneath her, watches and laughs as he reaches out, his firm arm wrapping around her bum and tugging her over until she’s close enough that he can shift, pillowing his head in her lap. 

His breathing evens out almost immediately and she releases her blanket just enough for the soft fabric to slip from her shoulder, goosebumps rippling over her flesh as the cold air hits her bare skin. She scratches her nails against his scalp, her thumb tracing circles against his temple, and he shifts and drops a kiss to her thigh. 

“Happy birthday my love.” 

Regina smiles, whispering a soft  _ ‘thank you’  _ and settles back against the headboard. Her gaze fixates back on the snow falling heavily in the night sky. She loves the snow, loves watching as the flakes fall, the memories it brings her back to. She used to walk with her father in the snow, explore the gardens outside of the castle, wait until her mother was out of town and take the chance to play like a real kid. Her mother had conveniently missed her birthday for most of her childhood years, always found it more important to attend the yearly Arendelle Trade Meeting, and Regina cannot find a way to be at all upset about that time, as she got to spend it with her father. They would make cocoa and apple turnovers, and she would sit in his lap by the fireplace while he taught her how to read from old storybooks. 

Gods, she misses him. 

Robin lets out a low snore and she comes back from her thoughts, watches as his chest rises and falls, memorizing his features. It still surprises her that she has this, has  _ him,  _ her soulmate. That damn fairy was right all along and gods, what a fool she was to have walked away from him in that bar all those years ago. Her heart swells at the thoughts of their future together, a flashing fantasy of a clean white wedding gown, a safe town with no villains in their path, Henry and Roland growing up in this home. She lets herself dream, allows the peace of the falling snow to calm her heart until her eyes slowly fall closed, her breaths evening out in a rhythm that matches his own. 

She wakes sometime later to the feeling of his rough stubble on her thigh, his lips drawing kisses up and down her muscle. She’s on her back now— she must’ve moved in her sleep, her blanket twisted open, flared out around her hips, and Robin has moved himself down the bed, his hand curled around the back of her knee as he leans and dots kisses to the inside of her thigh. 

Her breath comes out a little heavier when he nips at her skin and he looks up, a grin flashing across his cheeks, his fingers slipping down and squeezing at her calf. “Morning, darling,” he rasps out, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“It  _ is  _ a good morning, isn’t it?” she smirks, running her fingers through his hair when he starts kissing her legs again. Her legs fall open on their own accord, the cool air curling around her flushed skin, and she darts her tongue out and bites her lip as he nips at the crease of her hip, soothing over the reddened skin with his tongue. “Are you enjoying yourself?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” he grins, wrapping his hand a little tighter beneath her thigh. He brings his hands up to spread her lips, staring at her for a moment before he drags his finger between her slit, rubbing softly. “I called your secretary yesterday and had her reschedule your meetings,” he kisses her thighs between words, his hand drawing up to curl around the edge of the blanket so he can peel the warm fleece back slowly from her chest, shifting to kiss up her stomach. He’s moving slow-  _ so painstakingly _ slow, but she loves the feeling of his kiss against her body as he strips the blanket from her completely, dropping it to the floor beside their bed. 

“Is that s-so?” she huffs out as he moves upward, kissing, his hands follow his path, mapping the curves of her body. She holds her breath as he moves, focusing on the feeling of stubble against her stomach, nipping kisses at her ribs, his hands, coming around her back to hold her to him. He stops at her breasts, runs his thumb so lightly over her nipple before pushing himself higher until is weight is over hers, his hand curling in her hair, and he dives in, sucking at the sweet spot at her neck, his other hand coming up to cup at her breast, his thumb pressing tightly to the peak of her nipple and she whines, her hips lifting, searching. “She knows better.” 

“We both know she won’t tell me no,” he whispers. She knows he won’t leave an obvious mark, won’t do that to her, but he lingers just a bit longer, telling her, “Besides, love, it’s your birthday. You deserve to  _ relax,  _ let me take care of you today. No work, no responsibilities, just…” 

He kisses down her chest and when his lips wrap around her nipple  _ oh, _ it’s absolute bliss. 

Her hand comes up and curls around the back of his head, holding him to her chest and she moans a deep seeded “ _ fuck, that’s it” _ and arches her back. He pinches her other nipple between the pads of his fingers, rolls the sensitive tip until she’s panting, growing wetter with each swipe of his tongue, twist of his fingers. She runs her free hand down his chest, wraps her fingers around his hardening cock and he groans into her neck, his hand tightening against her hip. 

He lets his own hand trail down her center, finding her heat, the pads of his fingers swirling around her entrance, collecting the wetness pooling from her. He splits his fingers and spreads her, runs his middle finger over her entrance slowly, dipping just the tip in once,  _ twice, “Fuck, Robin, please.”  _

He pulls his mouth back from her breast with a slick  _ pop! _ and sits up just a bit, grinning at her as his fingers continue to tease. He rubs her clit, swirls the tip of his middle finger over her so slow that she actually whines, tries to push her hips up, to get him to move any faster.  _ Fuck _ , she needs him to touch her, needs to feel his fingers stretch her, wants him to rub her clit and give her earth-shattering orgasms over, and over, and  _ god—  _

“Need you,” she gasps when he slides his middle finger inside of her, her breath shuddering as he kisses his way back down her body. He settles himself between her thighs and his eyes dart up, watching her as she feels her own chest rise and fall, one hand curling into the sheets beside her, the other coming up to cup her breast, running her own soft thumb over the stiffened peak. 

“Gonna make you feel good love,” he growls into her skin, his hand coming around the back of her thigh, fingers brushing against the swell of her ass as he lifts her leg up just a bit, draping it over his shoulder. His tongue darts out, swipes through her heat and she gasps, pinches her nipple and swirls her hips against his mouth, practically chasing his tongue as he pulls back and chuckles at her. “Eager, are we?” 

“Robin, mmm,” she chokes out as he starts moving his finger inside of her carefully, slowly stretching her before he pulls out completely. “It’s my birthday, s— shouldn’t I get what I— I want?” 

He grins up at her, swirling the pad of his finger so lightly over her sensitive clit. “We do have  _ all  _ morning,” he draws out, his voice humming with laughter against her core. His breath is hot against her and she sits frozen, her eyes cast down, watching as he touches her so gently, as if she’s something delicate. The air is silent around them, so still, and she holds for a moment, watches as he darts his tongue out to lick his lips, leans forward to taste her— 

“Robin,  _ please.” _

It’s bliss after that. 

He swipes his tongue through her heat, wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer to his mouth, moaning as he tastes her, the tip of his tongue circling around her tight clit. Oh,  _ gods, _ her back tightens as he sucks her clit between his lips, her heart pounding and he brings her up higher and higher, her fingers curling into the sheets, warm heat pooling between her thighs. 

He is so good, another deeper, rougher moan escaping him as he tastes her, vibrating through her. His fingers come up and tease at her entrance, spreading her lips, his tongue pushing inside of her, the pad of his calloused fingers circling tight over her clit. It's so much,  _ so good  _ all at once that it has her reaching down, scratching her fingers through his hair, gripping the back of his head and holding him to her. “Fuck, yes, thats it, oh—  _ oh,  _ do that thing with your fingers, where you, fu—  _ fuck!”  _ She shrieks, when he pulls back and sucks hard once more at her clit, pulling off completely for a bit of air, grinning up at her. 

“You taste fantastic darling,” he smirks, his fingers picking up where his tongue let off, two stiff digits slipping easily into her wet heat, pressing against the pad of his thumb to her clit. “You like this don’t you? Want me to stretch you, love? Want me to slip another finger inside of you so you feel so full, just as you like?” 

Oh gods yes, yes that, she wants all of that. She tries to tell him so, opens her mouth to beg him to stretch her  _ further,  _ to finger her  _ harder,  _ to give her everything she wants and more, but her words choke on a loud,  _ “Oh, that, please,”  _ when he curls his fingers up and rubs them against her g-spot, his thumb sliding roughly over her sensitive clit. 

“Mmm!” she gasps, his free arm coming up to wrap over her bucking hips, holding her steady to the mattress as he pulls out, swirling and teasing his fingers quickly over her entrance, before gently easing three fingers inside of her. Her hand leaves his hair and comes up to tangle into her own, a deep groan ripping from her as he pins her down, rapidly pushing his fingers inside of her, over and over and  _ over.  _ Her hips ache to grind down against him but he holds her steady, sucks her pulsing clit between his lips, and her free hand slams down onto the bed, fingers curling tightly around soft silk. She’s positively soaked, can feel it dripping down her flushed skin. “That's it,” she begs, her eyes fluttering closed, back arching off the bed, palm pressing into her forehead as she grinds against him. “Don’t stop, ahh, babe  _ please don’t stop.”  _

Robin moans again against her clit and she gasps, her leg starting to shake against his side. She’s so close, the steady press of his fingers against her g-spot making her writhe against him, her breath quickening. Oh god she loves him, loves this, loves the feeling of his strong arms holding her as he builds her up, up _up,_ his fingers pistoning into her, thumping right against the spot that sends delicious shockwaves through her, bringing her up higher and higher, her legs twitching and shaking against the sheets. “Ro— please, oh, that’s, r-right there, I’m, oh, _ohhhhhhh god,”_ she cries out, his lips pulling from her swollen clit with a slick _pop,_ his thumb swirling tight, rapid circles over the bundle of nerves. 

“Come for me darling,” he groans. “Let me watch you, hear you come. That’s it love, you’re so good, so tight around my fingers. God you look so amazing right now, such a good girl taking three of my fingers inside of you. You like that, don’t you? Being stretched— gonna take my cock inside you next, yeah? Gonna make you come over and over.”

She writhes against his hand, her body pinned down by his forearm, his fingers thrusting into her  _ faster, harder, thats— oh, ahh! Robin, gods, I’m— ohhhhhh,”  _ she cries out, her body freezing up as she comes. Her heart is pounding, her hands gripping at the sheets beneath her, bunching up the smooth fabric in her palms as she pitches forward against his hand, her legs shaking as he continues his thrusts through her ograsm. Oh god it's so good, so  _ much all at once,  _ her body writhing against his hand as she comes down from her high, trying desperately to catch her breath. She falls back to the bed as he slows, presses her heels to his back, her foot gently pushing him backward. He lets go then, drops his head to her stomach and waits, his breath coming out in hot puffs against her flushed skin. She tangles her fingers in his hair when he tilts his head. presses a kiss to her belly and squeezes her thigh before crawling up the bed beside her. She immediately turns and tucks herself into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her arm coming up to wrap around his waist. 

“Good god,” she chuckles, dropping a kiss to his shoulder, his neck, his cheek. “That was—” 

“A good start to your birthday?” he whispers, tucking his arm around her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“The  _ best,”  _ she smirks, her free hand coasting down his chest, tracing over the hard lines of his abs, the smooth plane of his chest. Her hand trails lower and lower and she can feel him tense beside her, his eyes cast down as she wraps her delicate fingers around his hardened length and swirls her thumb over the tip. “Now though, it's my turn to get the next part of what  _ I  _ want for my birthday,” she breathes out, kissing her way down his body. 

.::.

The fallen snow over Storybrooke is one of her favorite parts of the year. 

It makes the town gorgeous, wraps her favorite place up in a beautiful blanket of white and calms everyone and everything around them. 

After she and Robin had  _ thoroughly _ enjoyed one another’s company earlier that morning, she did manage to sneak off to work as he’d gotten the boys ready for school, promising him that she would be finished by lunch time, which gives her fifteen more minutes in her office before she’s sure he’ll barge in and wrap her up in whatever lavish plan he has for the afternoon. 

Her birthday isn't her favorite thing of the year— she much prefers spoiling Henry and Roland on their own big days, but ever since Robin swept his way into her life and wrapped her up in his loving embrace, she’s come to like the day a bit more. He likes to spoil her even when she tells him not to, plans something romantic and adorable that she cannot find a way to say no to, and though she’ll never come out and tell him, she loves it. 

A knock on her door brings her out of her distracted gaze out the window and she turns in her chair, smiles as he walks through and closes the gray door behind him. “Hello, love,” he smiles, leaning over her desk to press give her a kiss. She grins back, leans up just enough to meet his lips, her eyes fluttering closed until he pulls away and sits back in the chair across from her. 

“You all wrapped up here?” 

“Just about.” She stacks up the thick papers spread across her desk into a neat, perfect pile, clipping them together with a binder and dropping them into the open folder on her desk. “Where are we off to?” 

“I’ve got a nice surprise planned in the woods,” he starts, and she raises her eyebrow, glaring at him. “Come on now, I know nature isn’t your  _ favorite,  _ but I’ve got a great plan. Trust me.” 

She packs her bag up, watches as he stands and reaches his hand out to her, slipping her smaller one into his own. He presses a kiss to her knuckles, squeezing her palm as he tugs her out of her office door and down the steps. 

Their trip to the woods is a quick drive in his truck, but as they pass the hidden path toward the Merry Men’s camp she turns to him, watching inquisitively as he chuckles to himself. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see in just a moment,” he tells her, his hand excitedly tapping against the steering wheel. “I brought you another coat , just in case the one you took this morning wasn’t well enough. It’s in the back there. Your snow boots too, the black ones with the dark red stripes up them that you like so much.” He turns down a nondescript path, winds up a snowy hill into a clearing that she’s never seen before and it's beautiful. 

Trees circle the clearing, surrounding the open area and casting a shadow from the drooped branches that’re heavy with snow. The sun is shining overhead, casting a shimmering glow over the snow and she draws in a breath, leaning forward to look up at the sky through the windshield. 

“You like it?” he asks, his voice light and full of hope, and her heart swells as she leans over and cups her hands around his cheeks, kisses him fully, her bottom lip nipping at his as she pulls kiss after kiss from him. 

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, kissing him again, awkwardly wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly, tucking her face into his neck. She reaches into the back seat, wraps her fingers around a flannel blanket and tugs on it just enough to reveal a brown wicker basket. “You planned me a picnic?” 

He shrugs, dropping his hand to her thigh and squeezing. “I know how much you love the snow, and though it’s not the most extravagant lunch, I thought we could spend some time outside for a bit, away from the mess of it all in town.” 

She grins and kisses his cheek one more time before she slips from the car, opens the back seat and tugs on the winter coat he brought her, pulling the thick blanket into her arms while he grabs the basket. They set up in the clearing and she filters through the basket, pulling out a thermos which she immediately opens, smelling Grannys delicious apple rum cider. She lifts the metal to her lips, sips the spiced rum and apple with hints of brown sugar, and watches as he pulls tin foil from the basket. 

“What’s there?” She asks, taking another long sip of the delicious cider. 

“I— well, I wasn’t sure what you’d like to eat out in this cold, and I thought about building us a proper fire and cooking a meal would take a bit more time than we have so…” he trails, unraveling the foil. “Burrito milady?” 

“Oh god.” Her voice echoes through the empty forest, laughter ringing out around them as she leans over and kisses his surprised face. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

His cheeks flush and he grins, passing her the foil-wrapped burrito before getting out his own. “Any time that I can make you laugh just as you did now is worth being ridiculous over and over,” he laughs along with her, patting the open space beside him. She scoots across the blanket into the empty space beside him, her side pressing against his as he wraps his arm tight around her waist and squeezes at her hip. 

It’s so domestic between the two of them, something she hadn’t experienced in so long before he came into her life. They talk over lunch, reminiscing about their time in the Enchanted Forest, winters spent in a world with no amenities that he finds himself appreciating more and more each day. She mentions the spring, her idea to try and find something more exciting for the kids to do than traipse around the same old playground, and he promises her that, come the warm weather, he’s going to teach their boys the proper way to shoot a bow and build a fire, life skills that they still need, even if they live in a place with electricity and grocery stores. 

_ Their boys.  _

Her heart swells for him as they trade sweet kisses and soft touches, finishing their meal and their ciders. She’s got a pleasant buzz as she stretches down across the blanket, her back resting against his thighs, her fingers tracing circles over his wrist. 

“What time do we need to head back?” 

“We have time,” he smiles, brushing his fingers through her hair, his thumb circling her temple. “Ruby said she’d get the boys from school and let them hang out at the diner until we get back.” 

“Mmm” she hums, her eyes focusing up on the blue sky, her hand moving up his arm, curling around his elbow. “I love you,” she tells him, leaning up into his arms to kiss him slowly with the gentle snow falling around them.


	2. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based off on this adorable manip by @starscythe. I loveeeeee love love this picture and how happy and domestic they are. 
> 
> Art Link - https://twitter.com/starscythe/status/1218942643209744384?s=20

Spring

  
“Mama Regina?” 

She lifts her head from the spread of work over her coffee table, watches as Roland pads across the living room floor in his deep blue pajamas, his stuffed monkey tucked securely under his arm. 

Even though he and Robin have lived in the mansion for a few months now, Roland still wakes from night terrors. So much has happened to their little family over the past year they’ve been together, monsters and villains infiltrating their lives more often than not, and her heart aches at how it affects her boys, Roland especially. Being in a new world cannot be easy, and even if he is adjusting well to his new normal, he still has his moments of uncertainty at it all. 

It especially doesn’t do him any good on the nights when Robin meets with the Merry Men, spends his evening off in the forest with his crew, huddled around a fire discussing god knows what. She never asks about his meetings, only knows that he promised his men that even if he wasn’t living at camp with them any longer, he was still their leader. Roland was quite heartbroken the first night Robin went off and he realized that he wasn’t going along with his Papa— an ale-filled ‘boys night’ was no place for a lad his age, and getting him to bed earlier had already been particularly tricky. 

“Are you okay baby?” she asks, waiting as he makes his way to her. He tosses the monkey up onto the couch and crawls up— she knows better than to try and help him, he’s a ‘ _ big boy’,  _ and he’s quick to tell anyone who’ll listen that he’s very capable of getting himself on her tall couch. 

After a big stretch and a couple of wiggles he gets himself up and situated, curling himself into her side, his monkey wrapped safe in his arms. “What’cha doin?” 

Regina laughs, brushes her fingers through his curls and wraps an arm around him. “Well, there’s a town meeting tomorrow about holding a spring festival, and these are all the ideas people have for their events.” 

“Ohhhhhh,” he draws out, stretching up just a bit, his neck craning as he looks over the papers. “Do we have a’vent?” 

“Your papa wants to set up an archery station,” she tells him, and his eyes go wide. 

The monkey gets squished between them when he pops up on his knees, cupping at her warm cheeks with his tiny hands. “I can help! I want to shoot da’ arrows with Papa. He showed me how to read the arrow, and where all the pieces are, and he  _ even  _ built me a bow. Please? Can I help?” 

She laughs, tucks him into her arms and pulls him over into her lap, peppering kisses against his cheeks. Roland lets out a bright laugh and wiggles against her, clutching at her shirt until she slows and he settles, collapsing against her chest with an overly dramatic, heavy sigh. “I suppose that you and Papa can set up your station. I think Henry wants to help Mrs. Mary Margret with hers, so that’ll give you boys something to do while I have to work.” 

Roland nods in agreement and settles back, his eyes still focused in on her paperwork. “What else do we get to do?” 

“Well…” she trails, reading off the different activities for their event. It’s very well past his bedtime and though she knows she’ll regret this in the morning, she loves this time with him, these little moments that she’d cherished with Henry as he was growing up. Roland’s getting bigger and bigger by the day, and while she knows well that she’s not his mother, would never even try to replace Marian or dishonor her memory, she loves him as though he was her own. 

He rattles on about all of the things he wants to try, how he wants her to show him all of the booths and starts listing the importance of the ones he is most excited for. “Do you think Henry will want to play with me too? When you and Papa are busy? He’s real smart, he can help me with the ones where you count the ducks, cause I can’t count that high.” 

“Henry would absolutely play with you,” Regina smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

He starts to settle, plays with the ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the soft strands over and over, his eyes starting to droop shut. She can feel own eyes growing heavier as well, her body settling back into the comfortable couch cushions, tucking him in close. 

“I’mma be the  _ best  _ arrow teacher,” he yawns, tucking the stuffed monkey safely between the two of them. “When’s Papa coming home?” 

“Soon,” she tells him, dropping a kiss to his curls. “You want to wait up for him?” 

“Y—” he yawns again, his eyes fluttering closed. “Yeah, he said Uncle Tuck made me some’tin, and I gotta say thank you.” 

She knows he won’t make it til Robin returns from his meeting with the Merry Men out in the forest, but she quietly promises that if he does fall asleep, she’ll make sure that they go out into the forest tomorrow so he can properly thank Uncle Tuck for his gift. 

“Gooooood,” Roland yawns, tucking his face into her sternum. “Tuck gives the best hugs.” 

And then he’s asleep. 

.::.

Regina stirs at the sound of the front door latching shut, the creak of hardwood floors beneath heavy feet. Her arms instinctively wrap a little tighter around Roland, the young boy snoring softly in her lap, and as she opens her eyes she spies Robin standing in the doorway, kicking his shoes off at the bottom of the steps. 

“Hi,” she smiles, her voice a bit raspy as she sits up and stretches the awkward kink in her back. Roland’s still sacked out against her, the little furnace warm against her chest, his hair matted down on the one side where he’s been pressed against her. 

“Two of my three favorites,” Robin grins, sneaking quietly into the room. He’s a bit wobbly on his feet and she lets out a light laugh when he bumps the coffee table before plopping down at her side, his head rolling back against the cushion. “Henry asleep?” 

Regina nods, shifts Roland down onto the couch beside her and waits to see if he stirs, watching as he wraps himself around the throw pillow and lets out a long breath. 

She turns back to Robin, tucks herself against his side, running her hand up and down his denim-clad leg. “How was your evening?” 

“A proper night filled with ale and whiskey,” he laughs, carding his fingers through his hair. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, tugs her just a bit closer and kisses the top of her hair. “The boys have a good time?” 

“They ganged up on me enough that I caved into making them that boxed macaroni and cheese and some broccoli. Henry was fine, but Roland put on a bit of a pout until Henry made broccoli ‘seem cool’,” she laughs. “Then we played a riveting round of Chutes and Ladders before I put them to bed. Roland’s been down here about…” she stops, looking at the clock across the room, “an hour or so. He was missing his night with the boys quite a bit.” 

Robin curls his hand against her bicep, runs his palm over her arm in slow, mesmerizing circles. “The men kept asking about him. I promised I’ll bring him ‘round this weekend for a visit.” 

“I promised for tomorrow,” she chuckles. “He’s good at playing the both of us. Takes after his father.” 

He beams at that, pulls back just enough to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing circles over her jaw. “Pretty sure he’s learning a thing or two from you as well darling. Last week he and Henry convinced me into taking them to the movies when you had that early meeting at work.” 

Her eyebrow raises and she gives him a puzzled look, her eyes narrowing. “My meeting was on Tuesday, so you’re telling me they convinced you to let them  _ skip school?  _ Robin, what were you thinking, they can’t miss school, so much has already happened that Henry’s bound to be behind in most of his subjects, and you  _ know  _ he’s not that good at math, and—” 

His lips are so soft against hers. 

Her words melt away at his kiss, the slick slide of his lips over her own, his warm hands cupping her cool cheeks as he tugs her a little closer to him and slides his tongue between her lips. She takes everything she can from him, her heart pounding as she sucks his bottom lip between her own and grazes her fingers over the stubble at his chin, trading kiss after kiss. They stay like that for a moment, his fingers sliding back to tangle in her long hair as he slows his kiss, pulling away from her with a quick nip at her bottom lip. 

“Just because you’re a good kisser doesn't mean I forgive you for letting our children be truant miscreants.” 

He laughs at that, drops his forehead to hers and brushes the tip of his nose to her own. 

“The boys are Merry Men darling, they’re not miscreants,” he whispers, kissing her once more. “They’re thieves.”


	3. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so in love with this gorgeous art by @ankareeda!!! It's so amazing and the talent it takes to create art like this is so incredible!  
> I also scrolled through @robinlocksleys's thread of OQ headcanons and this one stuck out to me and I loved the idea soooo I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Art this is inspired by - https://twitter.com/ankareedaoq/status/1292434455639076865?s=20

Summer

“They often have long, deep talks right before bed about their childhoods, growing up in the enchanted forest, what they want for the future” - @robinlocksleys

The sand is cool between her toes, the night sky dark overhead with only the glow of the summer moon shining above them. 

Her hand is safe in his as they walk along the shoreline, waves crashing, the warm water and bubbled whitewash inching up to envelop their feet. It’s warm tonight, the dark red sundress wrapped around her, flowing sleeves brushing her arms as the wind breezes past them. 

Henry and Roland are paces ahead of them, rushing in circles around one another, their laughter ringing out in the dark night as they swish glowsticks back and forth at one another. It’s such a calm, quiet night out on the beach and she feels so safe, so happy that their little family is here and home. 

“Not too close to the waves there,” she calls out as the boys near the water's edge, but Robin simply pulls her close and wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her back to his chest. 

“They’re fine love,” he tells her, kissing the side of her head. They stay like that for a while, swaying to the sounds of the ocean crashing against the shore, her eyes drifting up to watch the stars as they shine overhead. 

“When I was a boy,” he starts, his voice low in her ear, “my mum’s family was from the shores and when my dad was particularly bad off, she’d take me down to visit, just to get us away for the weekend.” 

Her hands come up to rest over his, her palms brushing over his forearms and sliding down to tangle her fingers with his own. 

“My dad liked ale more than he should. He would drink himself silly, then turn around and blame my mum for something she didn’t do. I still remember hiding under the bed… gods, I must’ve been about five, and mum came in and coerced me out from under the blanket I’d hidden in. We stole a horse—” 

“You come about it honest then,” she teases, and he laughs against the back of her head and squeezes her side. 

“She might’ve taught me a bit of sleight of hand as well.” She can feel his cheeks rising, a sweet smile at the memory of his mother as he continues. “Anyhow, she and I would come out to the beach like this and stick our toes in the sand and watch the waves crash and… it was a nice break from my old man and his, you know.” 

Regina shifts in his arms, turns so her chest is flush against his own and reaches up, scratching her fingers through the smooth hairs at the base of his skull. “I snuck out a lot to the beach when I was a teen,” she laughs. “It seems like so long ago now, pulling on trousers and a tunic and a cloak so I could sneak off with Daniel to the beach. We were barely 16 but those nights still sit dear in my heart. He would come out early with blankets and we would lay on the sand together and watch the star, point out all the constellations and such. I was in an astronomy class then, one my mother couldn’t find any part of supporting, but I loved it. The stars are so interesting and  _ so  _ important.” 

Her cheeks blush as he leans in and draws kisses up her jaw, his stubble brushing over her smooth skin. “I love when you talk about the stars,” he kisses her neck, her jaw, the swell of her cheek. “Did Daniel treat you well?” 

“It was young love but he did,” she smiles as he brushes her hair back from her forehead, dropping a kiss there next. “What my mother did to him broke me, but… am I selfish for not regretting our time together? If he hadn’t met me, he would still be alive. He’d probably have children, a family of his own running around somewhere in the Enchanted Forest. He was so young, so full of life and happiness, and I took that away from him but, even in all the terrible things I’ve done— the terrible things that have happened, I loved our time.” 

Roland laughs out from somewhere behind them and she turns, watches as a wave comes up and crashes at his feet, soaking the bottom of his cuffed jeans. He squeals and rushes back from the water, crashes into Henry’s arms as his older brother lifts him off his feet and rushes them both backwards until they’re stumbling and falling into the sand. 

“I may not have known the man, but I do know that he loved you.” 

She tilts her head back and kisses him sweetly, brushing her thumb against the smooth of his cheek, parting her lips to let him in. 

He swipes his tongue over her own as they trade slow, lazy kisses, his hands diving into her hair to hold her to him. She feels a low moan escape her when he runs his teeth over her bottom lip, pulling her closer, one hand brushing down her back to the swell of her ass. Her chest presses to his and she thanks the heavens that the boys are thoroughly distracted because she doesn’t want to stop kissing him ever. 

She pulls back though, presses her forehead to hers as she lets her lungs fill, scratching her nails against his jaw, stealing another kiss from him before she hears the boys running back toward them. 

“Ewwwww,” Roland squeals, covering his eyes. “They’re  _ kissing.”  _

__ Henry makes an equally overaggerated groan, lifting Roland up onto his back and wrapping his arms around the younger boys legs. “That’s gross, right Roland?” 

“Yeah,” he calls out, swinging the glow stick he’s still clutching in his hand at them. “S’gross.” 

Regina turns in Robin’s arms so her back is still snug against his chest, her fingers tangling with his. 

“One day,” Robin starts, holding her close, “when you boys are older, you’ll be kissing a beautiful lady on the beach too, and you won’t find it gross.” 

Roland’s face wrinkles and she cannot stop laughing at them, her sweet family. Her hand lifts and she stretches her fingers, swirls her hand just so until a small fireball grows in her palm. “What do you boys say to some ‘smores before we head back into town?” 

They both cheer and rush off down the beach to where they’d laid out blankets earlier in the day, and as she lets the fireball dissipate in her palm, she sinks into his embrace and tilts her head just enough to kiss his cheek. “Kissing beautiful ladies, hmm?” 

Robin squeezes her hip, shifts to slip his hand into her own and tug her up the beach behind their sons. “Oh absolutely. They’re going to be heartbreakers milady. You just wait.” 

.::.

He loves moments like this where she’s herself. There’s no trace of Madam Mayor with them right now, and the Evil Queen has certainly taken the backburner with no looming threats over Storybrooke. It’s not that he doesn’t love those sides of her as equally as he does the woman curled up in his arms, he just… 

She looks so small like this. 

He doesn’t think she’s asleep. Her breath still hitches every few moments, her body shifting to find that comfortable spot where they lay in the sand. He’s dug them out a little trench seat, laid a blanket over the hole so that they won’t get too much sand on them, and they’ve found themselves curled up together gazing up at the stars. The boys are fast asleep, filled themselves with gooey marshmallow goodness and bars of chocolate, and the moment their sugar rush was over, they crashed down into their own sand-couch and fell right asleep. 

Robin whispers her name, waits a moment to see if she stirs, tracing circles along the plane of her back as she shifts against him. 

“Hmm?” 

Part of him had hoped she was asleep, that the thoughts that have been coursing his mind for the past few months would stay tucked away safe, in case her response wasn’t the one he was hoping for. 

It’s not the case though, and his own silence has her leaning up, her arm braced against his chest as she sits up just enough to look at him, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He brings his hand up to brush the curl back from her face, and his heart swells at the sight of her. Her face is practically glowing in the moonlight, her hair a little windblown from their evening on the beach. The makeup she’d had on earlier is practically gone now, wiped away from the mist of salt water like a sheen over her skin and he can’t stop himself from sitting up and capturing her lips in his own. 

She giggles lightly into his kiss, presses her palm to his chest as she leans up and over him, her lips so soft against his own. God he loves her, everything about her, from the swell of her ass to the soft curves at her hips, all the way up to her soft lips, pushing and pulling kiss after kiss. 

Her body comes closer and he reaches down, curls his hands around her thighs and shifts her into his lap. Their touches stay completely innocent— the boys are no more than 15 feet from them after all, but he still runs his hands over her bare thighs as his tongue battles for space against hers, tasting the sweet remnants of red wine and chocolate on her own. 

Finally she pulls away, her hands curled at his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape, tracing the lines of his face. The air between them is so quiet, the sounds of the waves crashing behind them a rhythmic contrast to the low fire crackling, its embers slowing going out as the night goes on. 

“Would you ever consider getting married again?” 

He cannot stop himself from saying it, his heart pounding with anticipation, with possibility, with love. 

“I— well, I— God Robin, are you proposing?” 

“No,” he pushes out quickly, shaking his head against her grasp. “No, not ye— no. Just, in general. Would you? Want to be married?” 

He can feel her exhale against his chest, the tension lines in her lower back dissipating as she sinks into him. 

“I think,” she starts, her eyes cast to his lips, a speck of sand on his collared shirt, the lines of his neck, before she finally looks up and her gaze falls to match his own. “I had never expected to, you know? When I was married to Leopold the thought of getting away from that abuse, from the torment of his touch… I used to dream of a pristine white wedding with someone I loved, not something I was forced into. God, I haven’t thought about that in years.” 

“But,” she continues, her hand coming up to play with his unruly hair, running the strands between her fingers. “If the opportunity were to come around and there was someone…” she pauses, smiling at him, her cheeks flushed a deep red. “I did always want to get married somewhere quiet. Nothing lavish and crazy like I’d gotten before, no. I wanted a slim white dress with a beautiful lace pattern on the sleeves and flowers, so many flowers.” 

“Yeah?” He hears the rise of his voice, the light glimmer of hope as she leans forward and presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“I think, if the  _ right _ person were to ask, someone who loved me for me, someone who loved my son, and wanted to be a family as much as I do… Well, I would  _ love _ to be married again.” 


End file.
